


So kiss me

by DreamingOfABetterYou



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Asexual Relationship, Aziraphale is a sweeteheart what else is new, Crowley's Eyes (Good Omens), Crowley's Tongue (Good Omens), First Kiss, Fluff, Inexperienced Crowley (Good Omens), Kissing, Love Confessions, M/M, Post-Canon, Soft Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), This is really just 2.5 k of smooching, can be read as, so you know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22408582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamingOfABetterYou/pseuds/DreamingOfABetterYou
Summary: Crowley has never kissed anyone, and is terrified he might be bad at it.Aziraphale helps him figure it out.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 138





	So kiss me

**Author's Note:**

> Cause you can never have enough kissing, right?!  
> I know the title's super on the nose, but...eh. (It's of course from the super kitschy-but-still-a-jam 'Kiss me' By Sixpence none the richer)
> 
> Hope you enjoy, I love you!!  
> Liz x

It’s the first day of the rest of their lives, and everything is as it should be.

Well, nearly.

After having lunch at the Ritz (which had been fantastic, as always, even if Crowley had to keep himself in check as to not stare at Aziraphale’s enjoyment too openly – as always), they had retired to the good-as-old bookshop, where they had been chatting and bickering about nothing and everything for hours.

Well, _nearly_ everything.

Since they had toasted ' _to the world',_ since Aziraphale had blushed and returned Crowley’s enamored gaze (even obscured by dark glasses, Crowley had dripped with fondness, so much so that not even Aziraphale would have been able to not pick up on it), there was something charged in the air between them. Something not quite menacing, but nonetheless a feeling which made your breath go more shallow and your heartrate pick up. If, of course, you were of the persuasion to be in need of breathing and a beating heart. Since neither Aziraphale or Crowley technically needed any of those things, there was a lot of energy just aimlessly bumbling around the room, desperately waiting to be focused on something particular, something like…

Something like Aziraphale reaching out, across the carefully measured space between him and Crowley, both on the sofa, both terribly tense in a desperate attempt to seem relaxed, both filled with immeasurable longing for something to happen. The angel gently touched the back of his hand to Crowley’s cheek and dared to lean in, hoping to meet Crowley in the middle.

Crowley flinched backwards like he’d just touched an electric fence.

“Angel, I…I’ve never done this before” he confessed quietly, wringing restless hands in his lap. Aziraphale couldn’t see his eyes behind the dark glasses, but his eyebrows spoke volumes. _He’s terrified._

“You…You’ve never kissed anyone? Anyone at all?” Aziraphale replied, a bit slow on the uptake.

Crowley’s shoulders rose even more, and he ducked into himself like a frightened little creature. It was absolutely absurd to see him like this.

“Not many takers, believe it or not. And I’ve never been a fan of dark, crowded clubs – too much like Downstairs “ he winced at that, and a muscle in his already-tense jaw twitched. “Anyway. Combine that with a quite low desire to know what it feels like, and you get me today.”

Aziraphale wilted visibly in his chair, and Crowley silently cursed himself. _Why would you be honest, you absolute buffoon, about something like that?_

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I understand that this changes things.” He clenched his jaw until he felt his teeth twinge in protest, and grimaced his face into the approximation of a smile when Aziraphale did nothing to protest, to say anything, anything at all. Slapping his hands on his thighs in the universal _Right, I’m off_ move, he pushed himself up into a stand and tried to walk away and ignore the fact he’d have to leave his heart behind. (You would think he’d gotten used to it, by now.)

“Are you comfortable with hugging?” Aziraphale asked suddenly.

Crowley frowned and turned to face the angel again. He sat on the edge of the sofa, looking up at Crowley quite helplessly, his hands uselessly fluttering in his lap.

“It’s fine if you’re not, you can tell me what you like, I just…Please. Please, tell me what I can do.”

“I’m not a charity case, Aziraphale” Crowley spat, lashing out in an effort to not appear vulnerable; his shaky voice betrayed him ruthlessly.

“Of course you’re not, dear boy. I’m trying to find a way for me…for us. I’m not good with words sometimes, Crowley, you know that, I’ve got _at least_ five feet in my mouth right now.” He smiled when Crowley chuckled wetly, and pressed on. “I want to make you feel comfortable, and…adored. I want you to know that I adore you. And I’m most comfortable doing it through touch. But we will figure it out, if you want! If all you ever want is to sit close together when we’re on the sofa, and maybe hold my hand, sometimes, I’d be the luckiest angel alive.” A big rush of air escaped his lungs, and he smiled nervously.

“Aziraphale, I. Ngk. I don’t know what to say. I thought you’d be upset” Crowley muttered, his voice the equivalent of nervously toeing the floor waiting for the love of your life to reject you – ah, wait, that was what he was actually doing at the moment.

Aziraphale frowned, and slowly stood. Some conversations weren’t meant to be had sitting down, and above that, Crowley still looked like he might start running at any second. “Never, darling. I will take everything you want to freely give me, and only that. I just want to be with you.”

“What if I’m terrible at it?” Crowley blurted, and slapped a hand in front of his traitorous mouth.

“Terrible at…” Aziraphale, bless him (quite literally), while being highly intelligent in some areas, was highly dim in others.

“Kissing. I’ve never practised, have I? And you’ve…You must’ve kissed lots of people, look at you, you’re beautiful.” The demon gestured vaguely and chaotically as to include the angel’s entirety, nearly knocking himself out with an errant wrist.

“Crowley” Aziraphale hushed him lovingly as he walked over to the demon, placing a careful hand on the demon’s shoulder to ground him, thumb softly caressing his collarbone, half-exposed already by the cut of his black shirt.

“I will love it, because it’s you. And if you don’t like it, we’ll never have to do it again. Whatever you want, dearest.”

Crowley sighed under the angel’s touch, his own hands raising up to Aziraphale’s plump waist, where he carefully grabbed a bit of fabric between his shaking fingertips.

“My hands are sweaty” he complained, only half-consciously voicing it out loud. “Can you feel that?”

“I couldn’t” Aziraphale chuckled fondly, “they just feel warm and nice.”

Crowley grimaced. “Forget I told you?”

“Told me what?”

The demon grinned sheepishly, and carefully leaned in. And even though Aziraphale mourned the fact that he was still wearing his dark shades, he didn’t have the heart to stop Crowley to take them off.

“That’s my chin” he whispered only a second later. “I’m not that short, you know.”

“Could’ve fooled me” Crowley replied with an apologetic grin. “Let me try again?”

“Whenever you want.”

Oh, Crowley wanted.

This time when he came closer, he placed a very light palm on Aziraphale’s cheek as if to ground both of them.

“Don’t move” he immediately confirmed Aziraphale’s suspicions.

“Wouldn’t dream of it” Aziraphale mumbled, nuzzling into the demon’s skin.

Their lips touched, and it wasn’t fireworks on the Fourth of July, or like a dam had burst, or like fire licked up Aziraphale’s spine, filling his veins with need and highly explicit thoughts. It was like taking off your rain boots after a long day in October, like cradling a mug in between your hands when it’s dusky outside, like saying _oh yes, hello, this, I like this quite a bit_. It was every bit as comforting as a cup of cocoa, and that was saying a lot.

“I messed up, didn’t I?” Crowley muttered against Aziraphale’s mouth, lips brushing with every word.

“I would do this forever, if you’d let me. And if I wouldn’t get hungry” Aziraphale relented at Crowley’s playfully arched eyebrow.

“Would you mind taking these off” he gestured at Crowley’s sunglasses, “and doing it again?”

“I most certainly would not” the demon whispered, raising his free hand to tug the shades off.

Aziraphale blinked. He blinked again. He opened his mouth to speak, and shut it with a click.

“What” Crowley asked flatly, with a smidge – alright, a gallon – of panic.

“Your pupils, they’re…”

“Ah shit, they’re doing the thing again, aren’t they? Uggghhhhhh” Crowley ended in a stream of profanities and guttural moans, clenching his eyes shut and turning his whole face away from the angel. Aziraphale tutted.

“Now, now. Come here, darling” he ran a gently fingertip underneath Crowley’s eye, touching the unbelievably soft, freckled skin with devotion. “Look at me.”

“’s weird” Crowley moaned and pouted, eyes still squeezed shut.

“It’s adorable, and it’s you. Please?”

Crowley groaned wordlessly and rolled his head in quite a dramatic fashion to face Aziraphale again as he opened his eyes.

His pupils, previously slitted and thin, now took up almost all of the demon’s iris; only a thin ring of beautiful gold was left. Everything else seemed to be directly sucked in to the dark black of Crowley’s pupil.

“You’re absolutely stunning, my dear.”

“Ngk” Crowley replied eloquently; his hands shot out like a snake striking to grab Aziraphale’s face again and draw him close. (Aziraphale had to turn his head to the side at the last second to avoid their noses colliding painfully, but Crowley didn’t to know about that. He had time to learn, endless amounts of it.)

Their second kiss was much more desperate than the first; Crowley positively _clung_ to Aziraphale, mewling against his lips when the angel wrapped his arms around the demon’s impossibly small waist to pull him even closer.

“Mmgood?” he panted into Aziraphale’s mouth.

The angel smiled indulgently at the naked need in Crowley’s voice. “Very, my dear. Keep going, if you’d like.”

Crowley, apparently, would like that very much: he didn’t come back up for air for another fifty-three minutes. Thankfully, Aziraphale had only briefly entertained the idea of a beard between the thirteenth and fifteenth century; Crowley’s skin would have been remarkably sore otherwise. When the demon did, finally, with a small sigh of regret at being parted, withdraw from the angel, with a last peck to his reddened mouth, he looked dazed. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes were glassy, his chest heaved to draw air into his lungs as he remembered that while he didn’t need to breathe, his mind had certainly gotten used to the idea.

In short: Crowley was absolute perfection as he sheepishly smiled at Aziraphale. “Got carried away.”

Aziraphale chuckled, petting long lines down Crowley’s torso and up again, down and up, an unending motion of tactile pleasure. “I noticed; but I’ll never complain about that.”

He nudged his cheek further into Crowley’s hand as to encourage him gently to explore the area a bit more; Crowley, never one to withstand a temptation when it was so gladly presented, softly scratched his nails down the line of Aziraphale’s pulse. His pupils impossibly widened as the angel shivered under his touch, tightening his grip around the demon unconsciously. One hand joined the other as he drew them up his nape and sunk into the white-blonde tufts, carefully combing through them and tugging just enough to make the angel tip his head back. Aziraphale gasped softly when he felt a tongue – a very much non-human tongue, if the two tips that flickered against his Adam’s apple were anything to go by – run over his skin, tasting him.

“Crowley” he groaned, and the vibration must have done something for Crowley too if the way he crowded himself even closer against Aziraphale’s front was anything to go by. They hadn’t made Efforts yet; there was more than enough time for that later, no need to rush.

Crowley – against his nature, really – seemed to highly enjoy taking his time; carefully kissing his way up over Aziraphale’s neck, over his pulse point where the skin was thin and blood-warm (his mouth stayed there for a moment or five, gently suckling; he was a snake, after all, and yearned for warmth wherever he could get it) over his chin back to his mouth.

Against popular belief, Aziraphale wasn’t _that_ much shorter than Crowley, but it was just enough of a difference that especially with a gently backwards-tilted head Crowley could drag him into a kiss like he was pulling him upwards from the bottom of a pond. His big hands cradled Aziraphale like he was something precious as a forked tongue traced some highly unlikely patterns on the angel’s lower lip.

Aziraphale chuckled through a dramatic groan. “ _Let me in_? Really?”

Crowley snickered against the other’s lips. “Thought you’d appreciate the Aramaic.”

“I thought you said you hadn’t done this before” Aziraphale teased gently, nudging his nose against Crowley’s.

The demon shrugged nonchalantly even as his eyes flashed at hearing the indirect praise. “What can I say, you’re very inspiring.”

“You’re ridiculous” the angel sighed happily, carding one hand through Crowley’s mane of hair. The demon nearly purred at that; Aziraphale made a mental note to revisit this later.

“Oh, you love it” Crowley proclaimed lazily, and went stiff as a poker when, without missing a beat, Aziraphale replied: “I love _you.”_

Things got a little more…heated, after that.

“I…hrmph…I love you too, angel” Crowley stuttered into the air between them when their lips parted, after an indeterminate amount of time. “I figured that” Aziraphale gasped breathlessly.

“Say, the thing you did there, with your tongue, how…”

“I don’t think there’s a term for that in Aramaic.”

“My dear boy, I don’t think there’s a term for that in _any_ language.” Crowley blushed deeply, and burrowed into a gladly offered embrace, hiding his face at the angel’s chest for a moment.

“I do love you, you know” Aziraphale gently reminded him, laying his cheek against Crowley’s hair, swaying them softly from side to side as he revelled in holding the demon close to him.

“I do…I do know, I mean” Crowley replied, the sound a bit muffled by how he was a bit smushed against the angel’s jacket. Aziraphale petted Crowley’s hair, dropping kisses to his forehead once in a while, and felt content.

 _All this time on our hands_ , Aziraphale thought gratefully, and sent a tiny little thanks to Adam – without the highly explicit details on why he was thankful in particular, right this moment. Crowley, feeling very much like he didn’t have the angel’s complete attention and very much not liking that, lifted his head to gently caress Aziraphale’s cheekbone with gentle fingertips until the angel’s eyes went crystal-clear again and met his.

“Think of all the other things you could show me” he whispered into the small space between them, and even though he was the one to suggest it, Aziraphale delightedly followed the flush that now spread on Crowley’s cheeks. _So much time…_ “All the things we could discover together.”

…Thinking of it, eternity might not be enough.


End file.
